


oh captive, my captive

by Engineer104



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Jealousy, Kinda, Post-Battle, but barely!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:01:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23408725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engineer104/pseuds/Engineer104
Summary: Felix takes a hit for Annette in battle. She does not handle this well.A priest is a little too nice to him while he's recovering. Annette does not like this either.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 12
Kudos: 111





	oh captive, my captive

**Author's Note:**

> Had a hankering for jealous Annette so took a break from writing long fic to hammer this out. Hope you enjoy!

Annette’s heart races as she barges past the sleepy guard standing sentry at the entrance of the medic tent. She shoves the flap aside and steps through, ignoring Ashe’s perfectly reasonable protests.

Inside mill several healers scrambling from sickbed to sickbed, easing the pain of far too many injured soldiers. Their agonized whimpers and groans fill the tent while the healers murmur words of comfort to them between incantations.

“Annette, Mercedes promised he’ll be fine,” Ashe tries again. “He’ll be moved to his own tent as soon as his condition stabilizes, then you--”

Annette spins around to glare at him, not quite sure why his words irk her so, and demands, “Are you telling me you’d keep your distance if Dedue was in here instead?”

Ashe recoils as if struck. “What? No, of course not, I’d never--”

“Then can’t you see _why_ I need to see him, Ashe?” she hisses. “He got hurt because of me too, because _I_ was careless and missed the enemy at my b-back.” Her voice wavers, but she swallows a threatening sob and scrubs furiously at her eyes. No more, she tells herself, shoving back the lingering heartache. “I just need to see him for myself.”

“I, ah, I understand.” Ashe rests a hand on her shoulder. She remembers holding his hand once, when she taught him the basic steps to a popular dance for nobles of western Faerghus ahead of the Ethereal Moon ball, back when the world made a little more sense and his hands - and hers - didn’t have so much blood on them. “Just don’t, um, if Professor Manuela yells at you for disturbing her patients, tell her I tried to stop you.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t throw you under the wagon, Ashe.” Annette offers him a smile, though it feels strained what with the fear still writhing in her gut.

Ashe returns it to her relief as he squeezes her shoulder. “Tell me how he is later,” he says before he lets her go and withdraws from the tent.

Annette releases a breath and squares her shoulders. She’s not sure why she has to muster her courage like she’s _still_ marching into battle - or into an exam - but facing Felix these days...it’s been different since that afternoon in the greenhouse.

The memory fills her with warmth that loosens some of the pressure squeezing her chest. Felix will be fine, she tells herself, he will be _fine_.

But it’s still her fault he’s not fine _right now_.

Annette stalks down the aisle between cots, careful to maneuver around pans and mismatched boots and past priests with their hands aglow with white magic glyphs. Distantly she marvels she hasn’t tripped over anything yet, but her mission draws her further along.

The first thing Annette notices when her eyes finally - _finally_ \- catch on Felix is that he’s awake, his head upright against a pillow, his gaze sharp, while a priest stands over him with a healing glyph under her hand. Her breath catches, and she hastens her pace, eager to be at his side and tell him how sorry she is, how _stupid_ she was, how happy she is he’ll be fine - _he’ll be fine!_ \- and--

The priest’s other hand lingers on his perfectly uninjured shoulder far longer than it needs to. “Please have a care, Sir,” she scolds him. “You’ve just woken up.”

“I’m fine,” Felix tells her. He struggles to sit up, a pained wince written all over his face. “I need to find--”

“Sir, please.” The priest’s fingers wrap around his arm in a manner that fills Annette’s blood with ice, with fire, with a profound irritation.

It’s like watching Felix spar with Ingrid, or eat cake with Lysithea, but where those once squeezed her chest with all the force of a Cutting Gale torn straight from her lungs this, somehow, feels different.

Annette’s not sad, no. She’s _angry_.

With her heartbeat in her ears, with a refrain of Felix’s last words before the battle to her - _Be careful, Annette._ \- ringing through her head, she stalks to his bedside opposite the young priest.

Felix’s eyes widen when they land on her, and he only strains harder to sit up. “Annette--”

She grabs him behind the head and kisses him.

His shocked breath hisses across her lips, and when his fingers close around her wrist heat rushes to her face. And Annette realizes what she’s just done, that maybe they have kissed before but they never really defined their relationship or discussed courtship or even told anyone anything about _anything_!

But Felix is hers, and she wants this clingy cleric to know that.

He pulls away, his face as red as hers must be and his eyes wide. “What...Annette?”

“Sorry,” she mumbles, pinching her lip between her teeth. “I just, um, I’m happy you’re awake.”

“I’m--I’m awake,” Felix offers her, rather lamely she thinks, but he cups her jaw, his fingers warm and sending a tingle through her skin and, well, Annette wants to kiss him again (and properly), but she _needs_ to say her piece first.

(Not before she narrows her eyes at the priest, who at last takes the cue and drifts away with some excuse about checking on other injured.)

Annette takes a deep breath and says, “I’m so sorry, Felix. I was careless, and you’re always telling me to watch myself, and then you were there, and you got hurt--”

“I was there,” Felix agrees. She’s not sure if she imagines his lips quirking into a slight smile, but his expression falters quickly. “I’ll be fine. I just...I’m just happy you’re safe right now.”

Heat pricks at the corners of her eyes, her relief is so powerful. “You’d miss my voice too much, wouldn’t you?” Annette teases him.

“I-I’d miss you too,” Felix tells her, and that earnestness for some reason shoots warmth through her body.

She presses her lips against his, her hands grasping his face, her fingertips buried in his hair. He leans into her, as intent on kissing her as she is him. His hand holds her head close to his, and their noses brush when, dizzy, she pulls away just slightly.

“Felix--”

Someone behind her clears their throat.

Annette jumps away from Felix, her back connecting with an empty cot. “Ah!” she gasps in shock, but when she spins around it’s only Mercedes.

She smiles brightly at them, her hands clasped together, as if totally oblivious to Annette’s undoubtedly enflamed face and Felix covering his face with both hands. “Nice to see you awake, Felix,” she says. “How are you feeling?”

“Um...well enough,” he tells her. He avoids looking at Annette, who doesn’t mind because under Mercedes’ watchful eye she can’t bring herself to glance at him either.

“Wonderful news,” Mercedes says, “but don’t worry, I won’t tell Sylvain that Annette got to see you first. He might get jealous.”

**Author's Note:**

> and then Annette had to explain to Mercedes that she and Felix are, in fact, together (or something)
> 
> someday i'll post something longer than a ficlet or drabble...
> 
> hope you liked it! comments are appreciated! catch me on Twitter @gazelle_gazette


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